


Death Wears a Yellow Suit

by DarthVadersInhaler



Series: Fairies in the Moonlight and You in the Sheets [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dubious Morality, Existentialism, Gallows Humor, Other, Poetic, Racially Ambiguous, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-18 16:10:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthVadersInhaler/pseuds/DarthVadersInhaler
Summary: Life was survival, and survival hurts. Survival was hurting and continuing, and hurting some more. Death was about relief, about a conclusion. They were opposites, and that’s why Life and Death could never get along.





	Death Wears a Yellow Suit

**Author's Note:**

> I don't...know what this is? But hopefully you guys will enjoy it. It just popped into my head one day, so here we are.  
> I didn't mean to make the series title so insinuating but I wanted to write a simple title to give off a dualistic magic and normalcy mending together and I guess it just sounded right so...here we are.
> 
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> T  
> r  
> i  
> g  
> g  
> e  
> r
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> w  
> a  
> r  
> n  
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> s:  
> Slight religious themes  
> Mentions of death  
> Nuclear war

Death wears a yellow suit.

Truthfully, it was a bit too small for his short pudgy form, but no one had the heart or wits about him to say it to his face.

Death wears a yellow suit, and in one pocket he carries a handkerchief and in the other he carries a pink rose in full bloom; it is the one thing he has vowed never to truly take. Perhaps that makes it sweeter.

Atop his head lays a black top hat, and it one of the only for black things he owns; the other three being a pair of sleek boots, a velvet bow tie, and a spectacle which rests in front of his right eye. Apart from those four, he owns no darkness anywhere on his being.

His rosy cheeks flushed a delightful red against his light skin, his eyes appearing beneath the crinkles of his smile as a shimmering pond in the desert. His hair was a golden blond and appeared to be as soft as the underside of a pig-which, contrary to popular belief, was actually a very smooth surface. The thick eyebrows atop his head were no different. His clothes were all made up of yellows and light blues and whites, giving the impression that you were standing before the sky itself. Even the pipe he smoked was a light green the smoke coming out in a rainbow array. He looked about to be forty, but it was no secret he was older than that-the ‘older than time’ was an exaggeration, however.

This is how the average man would describe Death-the average man who knew him. Of course, that man would be dead. Death cannot coexist with Life, after all. Those stories of a black-clad hunter of doom were preposterous. 

Life, however, was not your average man-or woman, rather, but gender was too bland of a concept for Life to really give more than a second of thought on, and he had lived for billions of billions of years. Unimportant.

Life was not your average man, and that means that he has seen a whole other side to Death-actually, only one side. Life has seen the glowing red eyes-the black and the large and furious mass of pure hatred that haunts Life into the mortal world. He’s seen the cutting words and knives that follow and attack Life with a vengeance and wither away the nature in Death’s wake.

It’s safe to say they don’t have the best relationship.

It truly wasn’t Life’s fault-Life and Death each had a job-it wasn’t for pleasure, or to take the high road. He kept the mortals alive, and that was good. Great, even. Hadn’t humans collapsed to their knees and thanked whichever fictional being they entrusted when they were spared death? Hadn’t they spent a millennia creating stories and hopes to escape death, to be free from it. Life was beautiful-that’s what everyone said.

If Life said that he was continuing to snatch souls back from the jaws of Death for this reason, he would be a liar. Death, though he would deny and hate it all the way to his implausible grave, depended on Life. If all life were to die out, Death would die too. Death’s job was to reap- to save, as he referred to it. Take the suffering and weak from the hellhole and into the Void. If there had to be an afterlife, the Void would be it. It was death’s job to lead the human-be it small or large, foolish or wise, strong or weak, into the Void. 

Life knew how Death comforted those who he took from their bodies-giving reassurances and knowledge the being would need to truly be content. Then, Death would explain the Void.

To the Hindus, he’d say it was reincarnation. The Christians, he’d call it Heaven, and to the Muslims he’d call it Jannah. And so it went with every religion, confirming their beliefs, making them the happiest they could be. In they went then, not a care in the universe.

To atheists, he explained the truth. He told them, not about spirituality or beliefs, but about science. He’d tell them about what happened when they set foot into that abyss, of what would happen to them. Then they went willing, too.

What it was, Life would probably never know. Sometimes he wondered. Mostly, though, he just didn’t care.

Life was the opposite of Death; everyone agreed. The only problem was most people got the beings the opposite of how they are.

Life was not incredible. Life was not ‘a beautiful lie’, or a gift to a decently wealthy straight married couple. Life was ugly. His bronze skin was stretched thinly over the bones poking out. His shaggy dark hair was pulled back and tied, showing his sunken eyes. The only decency he wore was a loincloth tied around his jutting out hips. He was more than that, though. He was the disgust felt by a suicide survivor. He was the pain felt as someone held on to life. He was the suffering in a chronic patient’s eyes.

Life was survival, and survival hurts. Survival was hurting and continuing, and hurting some more. Death was about relief, about a conclusion. They were opposites, and that’s why Life and Death could never get along. 

Life existed before Death, but Death existed before anyone died. Rather, Death came into existence when someone was hurt.

_It had happened when Life was just a kid. He’d been playing with a little boy-Job, he thought his name was. It was commonplace-a little fun to pass the time, keep things interesting. Then a figure, a chubby boy who looked around seven, appeared._

__

At the time, Life had thought little about him. Different beings came and went-Chaos, Zeus, Abyss, God, Allah, Satan. They were greeted by life-sometimes embraced, sometimes rejected. Then they went their own way-some to different corners of the earth, others to other planets or planes of existence. Some were forgotten, lost in the Wind. Life really had more important things to worry about.

_Life was perfectly content letting him wander off, when Death went and snatched the mortal right from his hands. Smiling in what must have been satisfaction, Death turned on his heels and stalked off._

_Life made an indignant sound in his throat, pushing his weight to his feet to stand up, then chasing after him. He caught up quickly, as Death made it a point to strut away. He grabbed Death shoulder, and Death swung around easily with an eyebrow raised-a feat Life wouldn’t congratulated him at if it hadn’t been at his expense._

_"You," Life scowled at Death, "Took my toy away."_

_Death frowned, gripping the human tighter in his hands. "You were hurting it. So it took it away. It's mine now."_

_“Tomato, tomahto,” Life shrugged. “He’s still mine. Now give him back, and I won’t toss you into the Void.” Death smirked, as if he knew something Life didn’t. It was annoying._

_With a snap of his finger (theatrics; they both know he could do whatever he wanted without any physical movement whatsoever) he disappeared, leaving fucking golden singing birds in his wake._

Death knew the Void in a way that Life maybe never could. He knew what the Void was, first of all, which was a pretty good thing. He knew the secret, not of life, but of death, and what came after. Really, it was a testimony to their friendship that life sent everything to the Void, and continued their acquaintanceship even though the Void didn’t even reveal themselves.

Well, that depends on whether you think saying you’re the ‘connection’ counted as explaining yourself to someone, which all sentient beings understood to be complete and utter bull (no offense intended for the cow itself-it was a rather nice creature, aside from all that inane snorting it did). Besides, what were they even the ‘connection’ to? “Batshit” and “crazy?”

It was dumb. Trivial. Besides, if Life truly wanted to know, he would-no, could-find out. He’d challenge Death, he’d sweet-talk the Void. Really, it was just not worth it. He was a sweet guy. He just wanted to keep the peace, not disrupt the laws of the universe.

It was a moral problem, not an informative one.

Life is friends with the Void, he truly was. It was the Void that had created him, had created every being in existence, immortal or not. He recalls being birthed, for lack of a better world. He was created standing on the Mountain of Everest, holding the Sky in one hand, and a small pink rose in the other.

_They were in what others would call their teens now, covered in acne and sweat. It had been centuries since they had last saw each other, and it was what both of them would say to be for the best. Now there was an air of importance, and a tad of urgency. There was no room for the childlike arguments they had had before._

_“Death,” Life gave a courteous bow. “You seem to be in good health.”_

_Death waved a hand impatiently, “No thanks to you, my dear Pain. Tell me, what is it that you have truly called me down for today?” Death would have sounded intimidating, if not for his voice crack at the end. Life decided, kindly, not to mention it._

_“I’ve come here to form an alliance.” At Death’s raised eyebrow, he continued. “War are being waged between my-between our people. People have died by the thousands, and people will continue to die if we do not intervene. We are powerful; we could be more powerful together.”_

_If Death could snort without sounding undignified, he’d’ve done it now. “You and me-an alliance? Are you out of your mind, or do you just enjoy being foolish? Either way, the answer is no. I have nothing to benefit from the continued suffering of humankind.”_

_“Really?” Life smirked. “Well, I suppose you’re right. You’ve got nothing to lose-except your own existence.” Life paused, waiting for a dramatic gasp or faint to come out of that damn infuriating boys , but nothing happened._

_“If humanity is to die out…” Life continued. “You will no longer be needed. You will die as well.”_

_Death shrugged. “So?”_

_At Life’s stare, he rolled his eyes. “I do not know what kind of hateful demon you are convinced I am, but I am not as selfish as to ty to survive at the expense of billions of others. I am no idiot, either. I have long since accepted my fate.”_

_Life opens the palm of his own hand, idly conjuring a pink rose in full bloom, its petals wide and dripping with what looked like dew. At Death’s questioning gaze, Life floated it to him in a gentle path in the air. “A gift.”_

It had been millennia and millennia since that had occurred, but Death had kept the flower. Perhaps it was intuition. Perhaps it was a desperate longing. 

Time has continued, unyielding in her path, and Life finds himself, of all things, a victim to her. His hair is shorter, falling out in clumps. His hands had gotten shakier, lined with stretch marks and the weathered in a way he’d never imagined it, no one imagined it.

His eyes, still sunken, held a permanent kind of exhaustion they never had before. His nails were brittle and yellow. The loincloth he wore was torn in unfortunate places, and looked scorched and dirtied in others.

His subjects, the mortals who inhabitate the planet Earth he calls home aren’t doing much better

.

The wars had gotten bigger, and so had their population. People were starving and overweight all at once, and it was shown on the lines on Life’s face. Nuclear wars had broken out, and the world was filled with hatred.

Life knew that he needed to greet Death, for better or for worse.

As though Death was listening to Life’s thoughts (it wasn’t impossible, just more of a common courteousy not to), Death appeared in a flash of feathers. 

Life was pretty sure Death had a thing for feathers.

“I do not,” Death snapped. “You make it sound kinky.” His expression cleared. “But…You’ve come for other reasons, haven’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Technically, _you_ came here.”

Death waved his hand impatiently, slightly rolling his eyes. “What was it you always said? Ah, yes; ‘tomato, tomahto.’ Shall we continue on to your impending doom?”

Life hummed. “Let’s.”

"It's not me you seek," Death said, his voice calmer than Life had ever known it. "Not really."

"I need to confront the void."

"Yes."

"And you shall take me to her?"

Death voice held a comforting tone to it. "You know you don't need me for that. and the Void are friends."

Life chuckled humorlessly. "I know nothing about her. Entertain me."

"Very well. Then I shall tell you a tale, the same one that has been told to every creature that comes my way."

"The Void is known by many names; Chaos, in Greece; God in Christianity, and yet Satan. Always the creator, always the destroyer. Always the oldest, too. The Void is the oldest thing to ever exist. She is the basis for which all things exist, and she is made up of existence itself. With her sacrifices, she sends out existence into her creation; plants, animals. You." Death paused, contemplating. 

"Well, that's what I normally say-it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? But you and I are a little bit different. When the Void gave birth to the life and existence of others, she knew they would one day return to her, and so she created us to balance each other out. My job is to return her children to her, so to speak. She needs her life form to be rejuvinated, but she doesn't have the same system as an animal; once her 'skin cells' are dead, they're dead. So, the new life-the one you help bring into this world-that's what she survives on. Then, well, I take those new life forms. Return them to her, help her grasp onto existence. And so it continues." 

"You aren't Life; you're Humans, Humanity. You create and protect humans. But I'm Death. I take all that come my way. And I've chosen this world, this reality. You were forced upon it. And now, with humanity dying out..." Death's voice faded away.

"But why? Why did you choose me-this world? It doesn't make sense."

Life shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps I liked you. It doesn't matter anymore. I shall stay-here, now. And perhaps, you shall be safe."

"No." The word was harsh.

"Excuse me?"

“You must go.” Life’s voice left no room for argument. “You are a creature of flexibility. You can go to a separate plane, a separate dimension.”

“What do you think of me- a fool?” Death’s voice did not shake, but the rosiness of his cheeks were faded for the first time Life had seen. He did not want it to be the last thing.

“This will not be the end,” he continued on, somewhat desperately. “I will go in the void- you have told me what she can do. You cannot get rid of me with such ease. I will be grown again- in some form or one other.”

“Yes,” this time Death’s voice did shake, though life suspected it was shock more than anything else. “Maybe you shall be close to me this time. Perhaps a cloth, or you would be the wood of my pipe.”

Life hummed in assent, smiling lightly. “Indeed. Perhaps, I shall even be a flower.”

**Author's Note:**

> How's everyone's pride month going? I'm doing great-single as a pringle but better than my previous relationship tbh. Planning on going to a pride parade in seattle on the twenty fourth, hopefully. My bi friend invited me to a smaller one with dancing drag queens and picnics and everything, so I'm really looking forward to it. I'm thinking of inviting a few of my friends and aghh I'm just really feeling the pride yanno? It's incredible how the people before us worked so hard for the rights we can take for granted and wow. It's incredible. And hey-if you're not LGBTQ, still enjoy this month! I know it's the happiest month for me, so remind yourself of your privilege and maybe do some research.
> 
> If anyone has feedback, critical or otherwise, I'd honestly liike to know. I'm striving to do my best writing, and advice is one way I can improve myself.


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